Tell Me a Story, Egypt
by ShinigamiNyx
Summary: Little TRNC asks Egypt to tell him an interesting story. Rated T for hints of more adult material. Turkey x Egypt implied.


**This was a story written for the TRNC in our RP group. She asked for a story-Something that would interest little TRNC-and I kind of went overboard. **

**These characters do not belong to me, though sometimes I wish they did. **

**Enjoy**

Egypt pulled the small micro-nation into his lap, setting the old dusty tome aside. A story? What kind of story would interest a small boy? He looked thoughtful for a good long time before he finally parted his sun-chapped lips to speak.

"Long ago, before you were even a thought and long before the world became what it is…"

_The prince rose from his father's throne and raised his chin defiantly. How dare the very man who had killed his people show himself. How dare he come in acting like he was king how dare he—his eyes flicked to his father and he knew at that moment._

_His freedom was lost._

_The gaudily dressed man offered a hand to him, covered in a black leather glove, eyes behind the mask expectant._

The Egyptian did well to keep things appropriate for a child, leaving out much detail but yet replacing it with others.

_Years passed. The man who had taken him from the home he loved so much grew kinder—of course, this could be because he knew how to manipulate powerful men and bend them to his will without much of a thought. And he knew how to get away with it._

_He knew he intrigued the man, especially as the elder got more persistent. And, as if on cue every time, something stole the king's attention away or allowed the prince to escape._

_As time went on, the prince began to regret more and more those times when he'd have the ability to slip away. He'd reluctantly do so, as it kept the king's attention on him instead of his wards. And slowly, he began to have feelings for the king._

Egypt looked to the small boy, who was listening intently, so he decided to keep going.

_He'd often catch the king watching him with the children, but would never give more than a glance—said man would always seem to disappear if he felt he'd been spotted. The children grew, and soon they began to rebel against the king, pushing him further and further out of their lives._

_A young man had come to call, and he found his thoughts drifting away from the king he so adored. He was charming, elegant, and seemed to know all the right words and moves. He never pushed like the king did, never raised a hand against him. He often brought him gifts and treats, most often snuck in the cover of nights, eventually turning into an excuse to see one another. However, one bad move and he was out. The king found him while he tried to sneak out and that was the end of it._

_After that, there were a few fighting over him—who would not want the beautiful desert flower that was called a prince—It soon came down to two; king and pirate, but soon the king gave up on his quest to take his prince back._

_Wartime came._

_Nothing was beautiful anymore as people fought and damaged themselves. Even the prince had thrown away his pride and joined in—both for his freedom and for those he loved. A man had been whispering things into his ear; hints, lies….slander. He did not believe them at first, but here he was._

_He was standing above the very king who had stolen him away in the first place. The king's mask was cracked both figuratively and literally. He looked up, the point of the prince's sword to his throat as the others stood around with guns. His mouth moved, but the prince did not hear it. The pleading words fell on deaf ears as he turned away and sheathed the sword. He had not done it single-handedly, but in his heart, he felt he had._

_And he had left the man he had loved—and still loved—to die._

Coming out of his nostalgia, he looked down at the micro-nation, who had fallen asleep in his lap. With a gentle smile, he picked the boy up and carried him out of the library. He could sleep here tonight, and then he would take him home to Turkey. "But, little one," He spoke gently as he tucked him in. "That is not the end of the story." Seeing the child safely asleep, he got up and went to call Turkey to let him know that his son was safe.

"Not the end at all."


End file.
